


Sisters are Doing it for Themselves

by DangerFloof



Series: A Two Parent, Two Bottles of Wine a Night Job [2]
Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Collage, Difficult Decisions, Explicit Language, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Family Secrets, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mild Language, Sisters, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerFloof/pseuds/DangerFloof
Summary: Louise, now 15, flies to Chicago to visit Tina, a 19-year-old English major, over spring break.  Sisters fight, sisters bond, and ultimately, sisters learn how much they have in common.  Who knew it would be Tina who corrupts Louise?"Sisters are doin' it for themselvesStandin' on their own two feetAnd ringin' on their own bellsSaid, sisters are doin' it for themselves""Sisters are Doin' it for Themselves," lyrics by Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart





	1. ONE

            Louise barely makes it off the plane before her phone buzzes, alerting her to new texts. Mom, of course— _Jeeze Linda, get a grip_ —and one from Tina.

 **Tina:** Terminal 3. Green Camry.

            Louise smiles and shakes her head. Tina sends remarkably terse texts for an English major. She pockets her phone, hoists the strap of her carry-on higher on her shoulder, and, after a quick look at the signs overhead, plunges against the crowd to her destination.

            The youngest Belcher is used to being the smallest Belcher too, and often forgets the growth spurt she started in January. At 5’6” she’s still well below her final adult height, but she’s no longer twenty pounds of personality in a five-pound bag, and doesn’t have to push her way through crowds like she used to. A few people glare at her, but many men, and a few women, spare a glance of admiration for the girl with the long black ponytail, bright fuchsia lipstick, and bunny pendant around her neck as she parts the crowd almost as much with the force of her dark charisma as the bag she’s not afraid to “accidentally” swing into someone’s ribs. At fifteen, strong and fit from long hours at the YMCA,  Louise is still scarcely aware of her power as a pretty young woman, and that alone is charming enough to earn her more than a few second glances.

            She only gets lost twice as she makes her way down to the third terminal, which she considers an accomplishment. O’Hare is the second airport she’s ever visited, and it’s huge, a messy cacophony of noise. She steps outside to the pick-up zone, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. Tina warned her that Chicago is still fairly cool in April, and Louise is grateful for her leather jacket. Traffic is utter chaos—she witnesses two near-collisions in 30 seconds—and everyone steps around her with tense, drawn faces. What is it about airports that brings out the asshole in people, anyway? This was Louise’s first flight, and she had a blast.

            “Louise!”

            She looks over and sees her sister standing next to a beat-up green Camry parked at the curb. The right front door was replaced with a red one at some point in the car’s life, and the whole thing looks like it’s held together with prayers and duct tape. Tina frantically waves her arms over her head, as if Louise could possibly miss her, and Louise laughs as she dodges a mother with a stroller and runs over to her sister.

            “Hey, T!” The sisters hug. Neither of them can stop smiling, even when some dick in a Mustang whips out from the loading lane, blaring his horn and shouting obscenities at them. As if they planned it, each with an arm still draped around the other, the sisters calmly lift their free hands in unison and give him the one-finger salute.

             Louise has never seen her sister do anything like that before. She holds up her hand for a high-five. “Way to go, Tina!”

             Tina slaps her palm. Her nails are short, perfectly manicured, and cherry red, to match her lipstick. “The big city’s changed me,” she deadpans.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

             They’re on the highway when Louise’s phone buzzes again.

             “Just let Mom know you’re okay and not splattered all over Ohio.”

             Louise digs her phone out of her pocket and scrolls through their mother’s messages. “Oh my God, Tina, listen to this.” She clears her throat, preparing to do her best Linda Belcher imitation, and begins:

 **11:25—** I hope my little Louise has a wonderful flight.

 **11:26—** Let me know when you land.

 **11:30—** Tell your sister we love her and she needs to call or Skype or Tweet or whatever you kids do more often.

 **11:55—** I’m tracking your flight on the Internet. You’re up, up, and away now. So exciting!

 **12:07—** You’re father thinks tomorrow’s burger should be something Chicago themed. What do you think?

 **12:08—** Should he go with the city or the musical?

 **12:15—** Teddy says hi.

 **12:15—** So does Mort.

 **12:17—** Teddy wants you to know he said hi first.”

             “Tina, she goes on like that for—“ Louise scrolls down. “Tina, there’s at least another twenty just like it!”

              The corner of Tina’s mouth twitches. “She’s just showing that she cares. Don’t have a crap attack.”

              “I’ll have a crap attack whenever I want to, Miss Missy!” Louise cackles.

              Tina shakes her head and begins to speak, but is interrupted by the ringtone on Louise's phone.  Linda, apparently giving up on texts, is calling now.  Tina risks glancing over at her sister, perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised. “Cher? Really?”

              Louise shrugs and hits the green button, cutting off the second round of "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves". “I like it.”

             “Oh my Gawd, _there_ you are Miss Missy! Why are you ignoring your mommy? _Whyyyyyy_?”

              Louise puts her mother on speakerphone. In the background she can hear her father groan. “Lin, let her breathe.”

              “Mom, we’re still on the highway, we haven’t even made it to her apartment yet.” Then, more loudly, with a pointed look at Tina, “She’s taking me to get real authentic Chicago pizza because I’m a growing girl and I’m starving!”

               Tina flashes her a thumbs-up.

             "Aw, put my Tiny Tina on the phone.”

             “Mom, she’s driving, and traffic here is a little—“

              As if on cue, Tina hits the breaks, sending both sisters jerking forward against their seatbelts. “Hey asshole, it’s the long skinny pedal on the right!”

             Half a continent away, Linda gasps, scandalized. “Tina! Language!”

             Louise shouts into the phone, “I’ll call you later Mom! _Byyyyye_!”

             The sisters lean back and sigh. “You did that on purpose.”

             “No,” Tina says in a way that only an experienced Tina watcher would know means yes.

             Louise winks and gives her sister a finger gun. “I like your style.”

             “Right back at you.”


	2. TWO

                  They stop at Salvatore’s, who Tina insists makes the best pizza in town. “And I can eat it in good conscious, too, since Sal and Dad aren’t feuding.”

                 “Why so much and why so heavy?” asks Louise as she shoves the two boxes—they have to weigh 40 pounds each—as well as salad and tiramisu into the backseat.

                 Tina turns the ignition. “In order: first, because trust me, it won’t go to waste, and second, because they’re both deep-dish. _Real_ deep-dish,” she adds with a knowing smugness that grates on Louise.

                 “Oh ex-cu-u-u-se me, I’m just some ignorant hick Jersey girl who ain’t never heard of no deep-dish pizza.”

                 “Not like this you haven’t.”

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

                 An hour later Louise groans, defeated by the last five bites of her one slice of pizza. She seriously contemplates unbuttoning her jeans—stupid skinny jeans. “When you’re right, you’re right, and you, my sister, are right.”

                 Louise gets it now; there’s just plain pizza, there’s regular deep-dish pizza, and then there’s _Chicago_ deep-dish pizza. Assembled upside-down, Tina explained, to prevent the cheese from burning, as the inches-deep pie needs a longer cooking time, it’s layers of cheese, kielbasa, grilled onions and peppers, finally topped with ladles of sauce.

                 Tina daintily blots her lips. Just as the pizza defeated Louise’s stomach, it also defeated Tina’s lipstick, leaving only a red outer ring around her mouth. “That’s why I had only half a slice. That, and I just had these trousers tailored.”

                 “Same,” agreed Nick, Tina’s roommate. “I didn’t gain the freshman 15 as a freshman, and I’m not making up for lost time this year.”

                 “So you wear _trousers_ now?” Gene was going to love his.

                 Tina shrugs, and gestures to the scarf knotted at her neck. “I also wear scarves now too.”

                 “Such a lady,” Louise snickers, but there’s no bite in it, and Tina flips her low, perfect ponytail like a model in answer.

                 “Aw sweetie, you’re just a punk rock version of your sister. Give it a couple of years and you’ll have that—“ Nick flaps his hands, searching for the right words. “You’ll have that _je ne sais quoi_ too.”

                “Ugh! Gross!” But Louise is secretly pleased. Louise isn’t quite ready to trade in her Doc Martins and leather motorcycle jacket—best Goodwill find ever—for ballet flats and scarves, but she can’t help but admire how elegant her sister has become. Everyone commented on it when Tina came home for Christmas, and if anything, she gained even more polish over the past few months.

                Ballet flats. She glances down at Tina’s feet. Tina took off her shoes as soon as they entered the apartment, revealing a pedicure, her toenails painted the exact color as her nails. Something about it, all the matching, sets Louise’s hackles up, all the more annoying because she doesn’t know why.

               “Well, Bear’s party is tomorrow. What do you girls want to do tonight? They’re playing Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark at the rec center.”

                “They play movies on campus every week. This week is 80’s themed,” Tina explains.

                “Unless you think it’s too dorky,” hedges Nick.

                “Oh, it’s super-dorky. I can’t believe I’m going to dork-city with you two clowns.”

                Nick leans over and stage whispers to Tina, “I like this one. She’s _sassy_.”

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

               Nick and Tina’s apartment is only ten minutes from campus. They find parking easily—a rarity, Tina assures her—because hardly anyone is there on spring break. Louise tries to play it chill, and mostly succeeds, but she knows Nick catches her eagerly taking it all in. Louise has never been on a real college campus before, unless you count the local community college, which she doesn’t.

               Tina introduces her to a blur of people, all of whom seem about a thousand years old, except for the smattering of professors, who are all easily five thousand years old, and clearly there to enjoy the movie without the slightest bit of irony. They buy popcorn, and, at Louise’s insistence, SweeTarts, then sit down, Louise in the middle. God, she feels like a kid here—she almost reaches up to play with the bunny ears she retired for good when she was thirteen. _Be cool, Belcher_. She reminds herself that just because she _is_ the bratty little sister doesn’t mean she has to act like it.

               Tina makes the tiniest cough, just enough to get Louise’s attention. She smiles and nudges Louise. “Study hard and all this can be yours.”

                Louise rolls her eyes, but smiles bigger and nudges Tina back just a little bit harder. She can never thank her sister enough for the invitation. She doesn’t know exactly when or how it happened, but somewhere along the line, Tina became kind of cool, in a hip-to-be-square kind of way. Almost—and Louise would never admit it out loud—imitable even.

                Except for the _trousers_ thing, of course. That’s just pathetic.


	3. THREE

                   It’s not the lumpy couch or the sunlight glaring through the slats of the blinds that wakes Louise up. No, of course it would have to be her phone vibrating with what she assumes is her mother’s first text of the day.

                   Louise cracks her eyes open. “Goddamn it, Linda.” She unplugs her phone from the charger and contemplates chucking it into the wall. Fortunately, she looks first to see who’s the idiot who texted her at— _Dear God!_ —seven in the morning.

                   Gene?

                  She opens the message.

 **7:02—** The All that Jazz-min burger, seasoned with dried jasmine. Kill me now.

                 She sits up. Her fingers are as sleepy as her brain, so her response is slow and sloppy.

 **7:06—** Gene, itz 7 here. Id murder you with your own shoes if u wur in the same time zzone.

                 Louise stands up and begins her morning stretches. She hates yoga, or rather, yoga culture. All the consciously stupid airheads spouting pseudospiritual mumbo-jumbo give her hives. But she discovered a while back that plain stretching, mixed with a little agnostic tai-chi, is an excellent way to wake up her body. It's still one of her favorite classes at the local YMCA, after boxing, of course.           

 **7:10—** Sorry. I forgot. Gonna paint the town beige today?

                 She snickers. She can hear movement in the tiny kitchen, including a mechanical gurgling sound that promises that coffee is being brewed.

 **7:11—** They work today. Gave me a key. We’re going to a party tonight. T even said she’d do my brows.

 **7:13—** Get your fleek on, girl!           

                 Nick pokes his head around the corner. “Ready for coffee, SweeTart?”

                 Louise usually loathes nicknames. She was suspended the second day of seventh grade because some transfer kid needed his nose broken before he got the message that he really should _not_ call her Lulu.   But Nick says it with such casual, off-hand affection that she actually kind of likes it. She staggers into the kitchen. “Think I can get an IV bag of the stuff?”

                 He’s already dressed to the shoes. “No, but here’s a mug for you, and one for your sister. There’s more in the pot, now I gotta fly.” He taps the Target logo on his t-shirt, grabs his own coffee, and is out the door before Louise can ask why he’d pour coffee for her sister, who is a notoriously late sleeper. She takes a sip of her own cup, and is about to pour Tina’s back into the coffee maker, when she hears soft music coming from Tina’s room.

_No way!_

                  Louise taps gently on the door.

                 "Gah!" Tina calls out.

                   Louise jumps. “You really _are_ awake.”

                  “Just a minute!” Drawers thump shut, it sounds like Tina trips over something, but soon enough the door opens. She’s carrying a large gym bag. Her lips are pale and her hair is untidy. “I didn’t think you’d be awake this early.”

                  “Neither did I.”

                  Tina frowns. “You didn’t think _I_ would be awake this early, or that _you_ wouldn’t be—“

                   Louise’s Spidey senses are on high alert. Tina hasn’t been this awkward since middle school.

                   “Both. Either. Um, Nick made you coffee.”

                   “Thanks.” She grabs it without looking Louise in the eyes, another tell; Tina’s social skills have improved enormously, but she’s still more likely to stare than avoid eye contact. “Uh, I gave you a key last night, right?”

                    “Yeah, I got it. What’s in the bag?”

                    “Yoga equipment! We do yoga on our breaks.”

                    “Where do you work, anyway?”

                    “Coffee shop! Late for inventory—bye!” The front door slams behind her.

                     Louise blinks. What the hell just happened?

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

                  Louise tries to stay out of it. Really. Whatever Tina is doing is none of her business, right? She’s no longer the nosy nine-year-old who sneaks into her big sister’s room to read her diary. No, she’s mature now. She minds her own business.

                  Louise reminds herself that she minds her own business through breakfast. “No snooping,” she mumbles to herself as she starts her morning workout, beginning on her arms. She moves on to her core, then legs, even though it’s not leg day, replacing her stupid and embarrassing but totally effective mantra of “booty goals” with “not my circus, not my monkeys” as she does seemingly endless sets of squats and lunges. Even a run around the apartment complex doesn’t help, though wondering what she missed does help her tune out the gross older men catcalling her.

                  Louise arrives back at the apartment at a little after 9:30, pouring sweat, her legs shaking as she climbs the stairs up to the third floor, and she just can’t get her mind off of the morning. She’s missing something. She knows it.

                  She opens the door. The apartment smells like stale old coffee.

                  Coffee!

                  Why would someone who works in a coffee shop bring coffee to work with her?

                  Follow-up: what are the odds that someone as determinedly put-together as her sister would leave the house without makeup and brushing her hair? Especially with _that_ makeup collection!

                  Tina gave her a tour of the apartment yesterday afternoon. Overall, it was exactly what Louise expected; tiny, sparsely furnished, with dingy carpeting throughout.

                 “The great room,” Tina said, as they stood in the long but narrow front room that functioned as both living and dining room.

                  “Let me guess—this is the kitchen.”

                   It wasn’t even wide enough for the two sisters to stand side-by-side, and the refrigerator wheezed like old Mr. Cranwinkle at Reflections.

                  Tina guided her down a hallway that wasn’t longer than their parent’s bedroom.

                  Tina gestured to the left. “Bathroom.”

                  Then she pointed to the door at the end of the hall. “Nick’s room.”

                 “My room,” she said, opening the door directly across from the bathroom.

                 The room was small and tidy, with a large watermark on the ceiling indicating a recurring plumbing problem upstairs. The furniture was a worn hodge-podge of styles—Louise knows thrift store finds when she sees them—and the walls were blank, except for over the vanity.

                 “Holy crap,” Louise breathed. Tina set up an actual vanity! It was just a narrow rectangular table and obviously second-hand chair, but she threw a nice cloth over it and hung a lighted mirror on the wall. She taped pictures of classic Hollywood beauties on wall too, which Louise ignored, but on the table was a slice of Sephora heaven.

                  Louise couldn’t help but run over and drool. Within the past year she’d grown to appreciate the transformative power of makeup. She didn’t wear it every day, and hated the heavy, full-glam look popular on YouTube, but she owned her own small horde of drugstore favorites, and knew enough to appreciate what she saw in front of her.

                  MAC Fix Spray. Estee Lauder foundation. Eyeshadow palettes by Urban Decay and Huda Beauty. Becca highlighters! Nars lipsticks!

                  “How did you buy all this?”

                   “Uhhhhh…eBay?”

                   It’s only in retrospect that Louise, not blinded by the sight of so much of the makeup she secretly covets, remembers the hesitation, the uncomfortable groan, the question mark that punctuated a sentence that ought to have ended with a period.

                   No.

                   No! She’s going to do her stretches, take a shower, and…goddamn it.

                  Defeated, Louise opens the door to her sister’s room.


	4. FOUR

             Louise can’t help but to be drawn to the vanity. Her sister has many of the products Louise would love to own if she had the money—or rather, if someone else would buy it for her, because there’s no way in hell she’s spending her own stash on a $54 eye shadow palette when she can wheedle her mother into purchasing a perfectly good dupe for ten bucks at Rite-Aid.

            Wait a minute—her brush jar is empty! Now that she’s looking with an investigative rather than covetous eye, she sees that several products are missing. No powder or foundation, the distinctive flying saucer of Becca highlighter has gone rogue, and there’s a gap in her neatly aligned palettes. Why would Tina bring bother packing a full face of makeup to put on at work, especially if she's running late, and why would she need a big gym bag to do it?

            Something is seriously off here. Even the tidiness of her room looks strangely suspicious. Tina was always fairly neat, but this is next-level tidy, almost like a showroom. What the hell is Tina hiding?

            Louise slides open the closet door. The closet itself is the size of a postage stamp, and even Tina’s minimalist wardrobe barely fills it. Again, it’s almost aggressively neatly organized. The trunk that their parents bought her as a parting gift, because Bob insisted that all college students need a trunk, is tucked in the corner and locked.

            _Crap! Why didn’t I bring my picks?_

            That’s when Louise looks up to the top shelf and spots the shoes. There’s an empty gap where she supposes Tina stores the sneakers she ran out of the house wearing, four pairs of flats, a pair of snow boots, sandals, two pairs of wedges, then… _woah_!

            Louise reaches up and picks up a shoe by a heel. It’s open-toe, lurid fuchsia, and at least six inches high with a thick platform. Sparkling rhinestones cascade from the thick ankle cuff. Marshmallow would love it in white.

            Louise bursts into slightly hysterical laughter. _No, this can’t be what it looks like._ Tina damn near broke her ankle a just few Thanksgivings ago wearing kitten heels. She carefully puts it back, then picks up the other absurdly high heel next to it. This one is black patent leather, and the clear heel is even higher, but with a mercifully thicker clear platform.

            Louise drops heavily on Tina’s bed, trying to take it all in. There’s no doubt that these are stripper shoes, but…no.

            She begins to dig around in Tina’s scratched-up dresser, pausing to chuckle at the tiny penis the previous owner carved into one of the drawers. The top drawer holds an unremarkable collection of socks, bras, and underwear. Second drawer, t-shirts, workout gear, and scarves. Third drawer, an extra set of sheets.

            Louise, shaking, exhales, until that point unaware that she had been holding her breath. There isn’t even lingerie in there. But why would her sister own stripper shoes? Disgusting ideas, the kind she never, _ever_ wants to entertain about either of her siblings again bubble up. Then she notices the cardboard corner of a box peaking out from the sheets.

            _Damn it._

            Of course she knows she’ll regret looking, but she does it anyway.

            It’s filled with itty-bitty strips of cheap lace and satin, mostly in eye-watering bright neon. They could only be the tiniest g-strings imaginable. Pasties, some in their original packages, some stored tidily in plastic sandwich bags, fill the rest of the box. All colors, various shapes, some with tassels…

            Louise plops on the floor with a thump. She feels like she’s suddenly entered a different timeline. Yeah, that’s it, it’s the butterfly effect; somewhere in Africa a butterfly sneezed or something, a plane fell out of the sky, and now here she is, holding a box of her sister’s…work gear. There just can’t be any other explanation, if for no other reason that Tina—the Tina she knows—can’t hide a secret if you give her Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak to do it.

            But her sister has been out of the house for almost two years now. How well does Louise really know her anymore?

            Louise puts the box back, and stands up to put away the shoe she left on the bed and smooth the sheets. It’s rare that she’s snooped enough, but clearly this is one of those days when she’s learned far too much. Still, it’s good information to have tucked in her brain for later. If nothing else, it’s worth springing it on Tina, just to see the look on her face.

            Yeah, that’s it. She’ll wait a while and surprise Tina with it. Tina will tell her some disgusting, brain-bleach worthy details about her sex life, and they’ll have a good laugh about it later.

            There’s a glass jar candle on Tina’s dresser. Louise takes it a whiff. It smells like soap and laundry. She nods to herself, as if that solves everything. Strippers don’t burn mom candles, do they? She almost manages to convince herself, until her eyes are drawn to the matchbook next to Tina’s comb.

            Louise can’t stop herself. _Dewy_ _Dick’s Topless Review._


	5. FIVE

            It’s laughably easy to track Tina down. Dewy Dick’s is just five miles from the apartment, an easy drive for Tina, and a short bus ride for Louise. Since this is the college area of town, buses are frequent and regular, and Louise barely has time to change clothes, wash her face, and slap on deodorant before the next bus rolls up at the stop just outside of the apartment complex. The bus stops a block away from the club. All in all, she has little opportunity to figure out what she’s going to do, but she’s typically better at improvisation than planning anyway.

            She really doesn’t know much about strip clubs, beyond what she sees on TV, and now that she thinks about it, why does it always involve a dead stripper? Louise shivers in the warm spring sun. Still, she’s good at going where she oughtn’t. Will the old pizza delivery scam do the trick?

            The neighborhood is run-down but not terrible, which is something of a relief. The entry to the building is shaded with an acid green awning, and the large windows are blacked out. According to the sign, the place doesn’t open until 5:00. What’s Tina doing there so early? She steps up to the window, shades her eyes, and squints, but she sees nothing.

            The door swings open, making her jump back. A muscular lump of a man straight out of central casting steps out and glowers at her. He’s at least 40, with a long scar on his face, and the crown of Louise’s head is barely even with his armpit.

            “Whatta ya doin’ here, kid? Get the hell out.” His face is fierce, but he practically yawns.

            “I’m here to see Tina.”

            He closes the door and crosses his arms. Flexes. He’s just far enough in her personal space to imply menace, but not be a direct threat. He stinks of cigarette smoke.

            “I don’t know no Tina, and I don’t care.”

            Louise holds her ground. “My sister. About so tall—“ Louise waves her hand a bit over her own head. “Black hair. Glasses. With the—“ She gestures at her chest.

            Recognition flickers in his eyes, but he shakes his head. He pauses, simultaneously sizing her up and stripping her down with his eyes. Louise is both flattered and repulsed, and suddenly, uncomfortably aware that there’s nobody else in sight.

            “My memory ain’t so good right now, kid.”

            Naturally, Louise is prepared for this. She hands him a twenty dollar bill from her pocket. He holds it up in the sunlight, checking to make sure it’s genuine. Nods. Pockets it.

            “Equestra? Yeah. She and the other girls are here for a photo shoot. What’s it to ya?”

            “It’s an emergency! Our mom—“

            “Woah there, kiddo.” He flings an arm out to block her path, almost smacking her in the face. “We’d all get three hots and a cot if your sweet ass even looks in.”

            Louise tries to duck around him, but he’s fast for his size, and honestly, her heart isn’t really into it. She has the information she needs; she doesn’t need to see her sister actually spin around a pole to confirm it.

            “Fine. Forget I was ever here.”

            He cuts her a sly grin. “My memory comes and goes, ya know?”

            She sighs, wishing they could avoid this bit. She pulls a ten out of her pocket and slaps it into his wide hand. He stares at her blankly. Sighing again, she hands over another ten.

            “Never saw ya. Now go the hell home kid. This ain’t the best neighborhood for a little girl to be wanderin’ all by herself.”

            Louise wants to argue, but she’s suddenly too tired, physically and emotionally, to fight. She turns to go. She has a lot of thinking to do.

            “Hey kid!”

            Louise turns. He's hanging out of the doorway now.

            “Come back in a couple a years. You gotta great ass.”

            She can’t help but to smile at him as she raises a middle finger in response. He laughs and slams the door behind him


	6. SIX

             Louise makes it back to the apartment before Nick or Tina. This suits her. She doesn’t think she can face either of them right now. She grabs her toiletries bag and slips into the bathroom, where she fusses with the shower knob until it spits out something like hot water. Louise feels filthy, physically and mentally.

            She picks up the bottle of Living Proof shampoo, squirts some into her hand, and begins to lather her hair. It’s for frizzy, dry hair, so it must be Tina’s, and since they have the same hair type, she figures it will work as well for her as it does for her sister. _At least now I know how she pays for all this ritzy stuff._ It even smells expensive.

            Louise is a doer, not a thinker, and she really hates dealing with emotions, so much so that typically, anger clouds over everything else. Damn Tina for forcing her to examine her feelings! She’s combing conditioner through her hair when she settles on the heart of the problem.

            Ultimately, while Louise isn’t thrilled with her sister’s choice, she’s proud—and frankly, astonished—at her chutzpah. Tina needs the money, and, horny thing that she is, she found a way to earn it in the most straightforward, yet unpredictable way possible. Louise laughs as she clips up her hair and settles Tina’s shower cap—it has to be Tina’s, it has horses printed all over it—on her head to let the conditioner cook. Of the Belcher girls, who would have thought that it would be _Tina_ who became a stripper? 

            She squirts some of Tina’s equally expensive body wash on a cloth and begins to scrub herself down. No, what bothers her is the lack of honesty. Of course she didn’t tell their parents, but why not Louise? They’re sisters! They talk! Where’s the trust? It wouldn’t be the first time they went all TMI on each other.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Two years ago, and Louise isn’t quite thirteen. She remembers because she still wore her bunny hat. Tina just turned seventeen, and they’re enjoying their last bit of summer together before school picks up. They’re sitting on Louise's bed, reviewing Tina’s first semester schedule. It’s all college prep work. Tina can’t shut up about it, but it sounds horribly boring to Louise, and the more excited Tina became, the more it reminds Louise that Tina is glad to prepare to leave home. To leave _her_. So, Louise changes the subject the best way she knows how.

            “I kissed a girl.”

            Tina barely blinks. “Did you like it?”

            Louise squints at the ceiling, playing with one of the tassels on her hat. Jessica had soft lips, softer than Regular-Sized Rudy’s, softer than those of other boys she’d kissed, and she tasted like Sprite.

            “It was fine,” she decides. “I just wanted to know what it’s like.”

            “Do you think you’re bi?”

            “Nah. I was just curious, that’s all. I don’t think she was too impressed either.”

            Tina nods. “Like me and Joselyn.”

            “ _What_? Ew!”

            “Don’t ‘ew’ me. We were drunk at one of Zeke’s parties, and the subject of same-sex kissing came up, so we tried it. She was so drunk I don’t think she remembers it.”

            “You’re lucky nobody filmed it.”

            “Yeah, Zeke makes everyone give him their phones when they come in, just in case. He practically frisks Tammy.”

            Louise laughs. “Well, it was nothing like that with us. We were in her room talking about kissing, and we were curious, so that was that.”

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Louise is fourteen. They’re in Tina’s room, because it’s the warmest. Tina is packing up to go back to school. Christmas break was too short for Louise. Her sister begins rolling up her underwear, which reminds Louise of something she wanted to ask for a while now.

            “Does it hurt?”

            Tina raises an eyebrow. “Be more specific.”

            Louise begins to pick at the comforter on the bed. “You know. Does it hurt the first time you and a guy…”

            “Huh? Oh. Oh! Well, yeah, a little, if you still have a hymen. It’s not like, horrible, but it hurts a little. I didn’t bleed much.”

            Something unclenches in Louise’s heart, and she begins to babble. “Well, everyone talks about it but I wanted to know for real, you know what I mean and—“

            “Who is it? Andy or Ollie?”

            Louise springs up, redfaced. “ _Sick_!”

            Tina laughs, and Louise feels like a sucker. At least she’s not so embarrassed now, which she guesses was Tina’s plan. She sits back down. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Both. At the same time.”

            “Don’t be gross. Rudy, right?”

            Louise is glad Tina said it. “We’ve been, you know, kind of talking about it. I mean, neither of us are dating anyone, and we kind of want to try it out, so…”

            Tina is frowning at her underwear.

            “We’re not all romantics like you. I just want to do it and get it out of the way and not get all mushy and true love and—“

            “It wasn’t like that.”

            She’s so quiet that Louise can barely hear her. “What?”

            “I said it wasn’t like that. For me. I wanted to just do it, too.”

            “When?”

            “Last summer, before I left for college.”

            Tina begins rearranging her clothes in her suitcase.

            Louise considers dropping it, but she can’t. “Who?”

            Tina fixes her with a long, steady look, considering. She shrugs. “Zeke.”

            Louise blinks. “ _Zeke_?”

            Her sister slams her suitcase shut, clearly regretting saying anything. “Yeah, Zeke. We were drunk enough to want it, but not so drunk we didn’t know what was happening. It was…nice.”

            Louise shudders at the slightly misty expression in her sister’s eyes. Zeke? After some drunkfest? That doesn't sound like Tina at all. Still, Zeke…she can picture him in her mind’s eye. Tall. Barrel-chested. Big hands and feet. Something primal and totally disgusting in her stirs.

            “What does it look like?”

            Tina raises her eyebrows. “What does it…?”

            “ _It_ , Tina. You know, his...”

            Tina considers for a moment, then holds out her hands as if grasping a sizable vase. “You know how a portobello mushroom—“

            “I can’t here you!” Louise runs out of the room screaming, fingers plugged in her ears, but she thinks she can hear her sister’s laughter behind her.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Clean now, Louise steps out of the shower and begins to towel off. That’s the Tina she wants back, the too much information Tina, not the…no information Tina. Does she think that Louise is some baby? That she can’t handle the real world?

            “Sister, I was swimming in the real world before you left kindergarten.”


	7. SEVEN

            The trio walk up the steps to the house that Bear rents with three other members of the university’s LBGTQ+ organization. Every light is on, even the yard is swimming with people, and Louise is pretty sure she sniffs out the faint smell of weed. She hopes so, anyway. She’s never needed a rip so badly in her life.

            Louise spots a few heads turn as they walk, moving in step to the music thumping in the house. She doesn’t blame them. Nick, Tina, and Louise look fine as hell, which they should, considering the effort it took to get them there.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Tina picked Nick up on her way home from work. Tina is cheerful, and Louise has to give her credit for being smart enough to wipe off the makeup she wasn’t supposed to be wearing before she made it home.

            Tina asks how Louise’s day went, and eventually, tired of sarcasm and one-word answers, announces that she’s taking a nap before the party, pointedly suggests that Louise does the same, and tells her to take some aspirin for her obvious headache.

            “Fine, I will.” And she does, because, on top of everything else, Louise really does have a raging headache. She has to get through another two days in her sister’s home, and she doesn’t want to ruin her first college party either. Damn Tina! Damn herself for investigating! _No, let’s call it what it is, Belcher. Snooping._

            Louise surprises herself by actually managing to doze off, and she feels better, more in control of herself, when she wakes up. Tina wants to play that game? Fine. It’s all fine with her. Louise won’t tell her a damn thing ever again.

            As soon as everyone is awake and showered Nick hits the sound system. “Let the pregame begin!”

            Pregaming for a party with Nick and Tina is a lot more complicated than it is at home. At home, Louise just sort of roll out of the shower into whatever clothes are clean and resistant to vomit stains, slaps on a little makeup, and tucks a pipe, lighter, and her special tin in one pocket of her jacket, and a couple of condoms just in case in the other. Boom. She can do it in thirty-five minutes easily, twenty minutes if she’s not too picky about makeup. For Tina and Nick, it requires hours of wine, hair rollers, and outfit approval, and makeup is definitely mandatory.

            Nick is ready first, in tight jeans, a button-down that Tina made him change twice, carefully disheveled hair, and just enough highlighter and lip balm to make him glowing and gorgeous. He sits on Tina’s bed singing with Lady Gaga about bad romance and directs the two sisters between sips of wine.

            Tina stands before him for outfit approval. Her hair is still in rollers, but her foundation and contour are perfect, and her eyeliner is sharp enough to kill a man. She spins for him. Tina’s wearing a cold-shoulder black top with black, high-waist cigarette pants— _trousers_ —and black wedges.

            “You’re giving me post-makeover Sandy realness and I am _living_ for it!”

            Pleased, Tina sprays herself with some perfume that smells like bottled money and begins to take out her rollers.

            He turns his eyes to Louise next. “Now, you aren’t going to do anything with that hair, are you?”

            “No.” She instinctively puts her hands on her head. She hates doing hair. Today, she just let it dry naturally as long as she could, all the ringlets and waves wrapped in a t-shirt, then blew it the rest of the way dry with a diffuser. Center parted, it hangs almost to her waist.

            Nick nods. “Good, because you look like a primitive warrior babe and we aren’t messing with perfection.”

            Tina and Nick take charge of Louise’s makeup, and beyond the general guidelines of “no” to foundation and “yes” to a smoky eye, they give her no choice in the matter. She wants to be mad about it, but in the end, she can’t argue with success. In less than fifteen minutes her skin is primed and powdered to cut shine, and her brows are the most on fleek they’ve ever been (but not _too_ done, Tina says, to go with the rest of her perfectly-imperfect look). Tina lets Louise borrow an awesome your-lips-but-better gloss, which Louise decides will “accidentally” make it home with her. Best of all, in Louise’s opinion, is the proper smoky eye. Usually she just smudges black liner and shadow around her eyes, tops it with mascara, and calls it a day, but these two do a thousand times better with only four products in less than five minutes. Louise borrows one of Tina’s body sprays, something warm and sugary with a hint of vanilla.

            So, as an individual she’s feeling herself, but next to her sister and her roommate Louise feels like a bit of a teenage nottie between two very adult hotties. Nobody would know it to look at her, or the way her sister’s black flats rub her ankles. Nick and Tina let her get away with artfully ripped black skinnies, a loose grey camisole over her hot pink bra, and obligatory leather jacket, but drew a line at her Docs. She doesn’t mind much, particularly when she remembers how careful Tina was to open the closet in such a way that Louise couldn’t see everything on the top shelf. Nick, distracting her too obviously with lip gloss, clearly knows Tina’s deal, and that’s really the only piece of the puzzle Louise couldn’t figure out.

            They take a couple of pictures near the keg outside. First one of just Tina and Nick, red cups full of beer. Then one with all three of them, no alcohol in sight. Louise sends that one to Gene, knowing their mother will grab his phone out of his hands to see it.

            “Let me know if you want something,” Tina says, but Louise shrugs.

            “Not really into it.” _I’m more of a midnight toker, but I’ll never tell you that_.

            Tina seems relieved. “Just don’t take any incriminating photos.”

            Louise laughs. “Tina, what is this, amateur hour?”


	8. EIGHT

            They barely make it to the door when they’re greeted by a tall black man who flashes the most beautiful smile Louise has ever seen.

            “There’s my favorite vanilla drop!” he says, squeezing Nick tight and giving his butt a pinch.

            “Tina, honey, love the red lipstick.”

            “Thanks, Bear.”

            He turns his head to Louise and she can see the blue highlighter gleam on his cheekbones.

            “Now, this must the kid sister Tina’s been going on about. How are you, Louise?”

            “Great, thanks for having me.”

            “Now I ain’t asking questions,” he says, “but I’d take it as a personal favor if you don’t drink or take nothin’ your sister doesn’t give you, okay?”

            Louise gives him a thumbs-up, which he returns. She hates being chaperoned like this, but it’s not exactly a surprise or, she has to admit, unreasonable, either. Even in the dark it’s obvious that she’s almost a full ten years younger than some people present. Her spirits rise a bit. She’s lucky to be here, and she plans to make the most of it.

            Bear slaps Nick’s ass. “Get along, you!” The two of them disappear further in the house.

            Tina grabs Louise’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance. Want anything first?”

            “Well…” Louise isn’t much of a drinker on her own, but she feels awkward without something in her cup at parties. “How about a Jack and Coke, _reeeeal_ easy on the Jack?”

            Tina smiles brilliantly, and Louise almost feels guilty for every ugly thought she’s had about her sister that day. She pushes unwanted knowledge into the back closet of her mind and shuts the door. Hopefully, Tina won’t get too smashed tonight, so they can talk about it tomorrow morning calmly and rationally, like adults, then they can enjoy the rest of her visit on equal footing. Louise smiles back, determined to be mature about it.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Tina and Louise snake through the crowd, red cups high in the air, bouncing slightly to the Christina Aguilera track vibrating the house. They join the dancers in the living room and begin to really go at it. Tina, Louise observes, is actually quite good, not sexy exactly, but sensual. A purple-haired girl watches Tina while groping her own partner. The entire room pumps the air with the chorus, screaming the words in a drunken slurry.

            “ALL I WANT TO DO IS FUCK YOUR BODY! WOAH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH!”

            “I didn’t know you like to dance so much!” Tina shouted.

            Louise throws back the last of her mostly-Coke. “You don’t know me much at all then!” She punctuates it with a body roll. Tina mirrors it back. Louise is the more athletic of the two, but Tina is clearly the better dancer. That doesn’t stop her from trying to keep up with, and surpass, her sister.

            The opening beat to a remix of “Shape of You” sends up groans from a scattered few in the room, but Tina almost squeals. “Yes! We did this in my belly-dance class last semester! Come on, I’ll teach you.”

            Tina begins popping her hips to the side to the beat, two to the left, two to the right. “It’s like slamming the car door shut with your hip.”

            Louise imitates her, moving her raised arms with the movements.

            “Nice layering!” Tina calls out, and follows her lead.

            Louise feels hands run up her sides and settle on her hips. “Niiiiice,” a deep voice hisses, his breath reeking of beer. He presses an erection against her, and Louise instinctively grinds against him. He groans low in his throat.

            Tina grabs Louise’s arm and pulls with such violence that Louise crashes into her sister. They stumble, and Louise is suddenly aware that Tina’s a touch wobbly on her feet. She only has a learner’s permit, but Louise will probably be the one who drives them home tonight.           

            “Hey, no foul, I didn’t know she’s yours.”

            Louise turns. He’s good looking enough in a predictable, conventional way: blonde, fit, regular features. The light is too dim to make out his eye color. There’s something about him just screams “douche canoe” to Louise, and she has an urge to hit him for the principle of the thing.

            “Unless the two of you are down,” he adds, leering at them.  Louise knows that she _will_ punch him if he doesn’t stop looking at her like that. Maybe he senses it, and that’s why he looks at Tina just a little more closely.

            “I know you.”

            “Uhhhhhhhh…”

            Louise grabs her sister’s arm. “Outside,” she hisses, barreling through the jumping crowd to the back yard, her feet slipping on spilled beer. She misses her Docs.

            They make it to the backyard, where the music is thumping but not crushing, quiet enough that people can actually have a conversation without full-on shouting. The evening is cool and there’s fairy lights strung through the garden. It would almost be pleasant Louise thinks, if it were a bit less crowded and she couldn’t hear someone puking in the bushes.

            “Louise, you can’t just go grinding on people!”

            “It’s a party, T. It doesn’t mean anything.”

            Tina pinches the bridge of her nose just like their father does. “At home, maybe. These are _strangers_ , Louise, and you’re a minor.”

            In the house, the beat changes, and cheers erupt as RuPaul prepares to order the crowd to sissy that walk.

            “Knew I recognized you.”

            Louise turns and clenches her fists. She must have been too distracted by those dumb, painful, slippery shoes to notice that Douche Canoe followed them out. Definitely drunk: she doesn’t even need to waste a punch on him, one good push and he’d be on his back. She’s not worried about him, but she doesn’t like the look of the backup he dragged with him. That guy has a good six inches and 75 pounds on her, and doesn’t look nearly as pie-eyed as his friend.

            Douche Canoe is openly leering at Tina, who instinctively crosses her arms over her chest. The music picks up now.

 

            “ _People talking (ish) since the beginning of time_

 _Unless they paying your bills, pay them bitches no mind_ ”

 

            “Whore got me kicked outta Dewy’s. Whaddelse are ya supposed to there? I gave ya a ten, five for each titty, an I’m gettin’ what I paid—“

            Louise steps between them, shrugging off her jacket and flinging it behind her. She ignores Tina’s slightly muffled assurance that she’s okay.

            “Lay a hand on my sister and I will _end_ you.”

            Her stance, weight rolled subtly to the balls of her feet, the dangerously quiet tone she uses, would have warned a sober man that he was in choppy waters, and in fact the big guy tries to pull his friend away. “Come on, Greg—“

            Douche Canoe—Greg—throws his friend’s hand off his arm.

            “What the fuck is this kid going to do? What do you think this is, little girl, the playground?”

            He’s drunk-loud, and conversations hush, heads turn to see what’s going on.

 

             “ _Bitches better get out the way_  
             _I'm a femme queen, Mother of the House of No Shame_  
_My pussy is on fire, now kiss the flame_ ”

 

            “ **Not. Another. Step.** ”

           The idiot takes the bait, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.


	9. NINE

             It wasn’t until she was twelve that Louise discovered the almost orgasmic joy of crunching a dumb guy’s nose with her fist. The satisfying pleasure of the slap she enjoyed since preschool, but it wasn’t until some idiot upperclassman twanged the strap of her training bra that she graduated to close-fisted bone smashing.

            Linda fought the school on her suspension, failed, and made up for it by treating her daughter to a giant banana split. Bob took her to urgent care for her sprained wrist. He neither lectured nor praised, but pride was evident in his voice as he explained what happened at to the doctor. A week later, he hung a second-hand speed bag, followed by a body bag, in the basement, and taught Louise how to use them. That knowledge, though imperfect, gave her an edge when she signed up for boxing at the YMCA.

            _This stupid motherfucker doesn’t have a chance._

            One jab and he staggers back, falls to his knees, blood oozing between his fingers and dripping on the ground. There’s a collective, pained, “ _Ohhh_!” from the crowd around them.

            “Louise!”

            Louise’s fists are still up, she’s floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee. It’s the fear in their eyes that winds her up, as they see her fist coming, and realize too late that yes, she knows what she’s doing and yes, this really is happening. It’s the crunch that finishes her, usually, but everything is red and hot this time, and she isn’t done.

            Greg somehow brings himself back to his feet, waving like a flag in the wind. His voice is thick. “Boke my node stupid bit—“

            Uppercut, fist buried deep into soft belly flesh. He’s on all fours, and she jumps back just in time to avoid a fountain of vomit. She leans in and hisses, “You look at my sister, you come anywhere near her, and I will put you in the ground. Understand?”

            His manages to nod. Louise looks his friend in the eyes. “Two punch chump. Tell his daddy to give him a roll of nickels.”

            Nervous laughter trills through the crowd around them. Tina grabs her arm and pulls her towards the car.

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            Louise shakes off her sister’s hand. “Careful there, T.”

            “You can’t just punch people! What if he goes to the police?”

            Is her sister stupid? “What, he’s going to cry to Officer Friendly that the minor he was grinding on beat the shit out of him?”

            They’re at the car now, but don’t get in. Tina throws her jacket at her. “People _die_ from gut punches!”

            “Only the good die young.”

            “I still have to go to school with these people!”

            “And wave your tits in their faces for a dollar, too,” Louise mutters. She went too far and she knows it. Tina looks like she wants to slap her. She _should_ slap her. Adrenaline rush gone, she decides that she’ll let Tina slap her.

            Tina doesn’t move. There’s a lost, devastated look in her eyes, and Louise realizes that, while Tina might eventually forgive her, she will never forget what she said.

            “I’m sorry, that was shitty of me.”

            “Yeah, it was.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            Tina snorts. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            It all tumbles out in fits and starts, half-sentences, backtracking…the coffee, the makeup, the shoes, the matchbook, bribing the bouncer for information.

            “You bribed Ernie?”

            “That mountain troll’s name is Ernie?”

            Tina shakes her head. “I thought he was just shooing away some boys. No wonder he kept looking at me funny.”

            Louise tries to lighten the mood. “See, T, I think your boobs are worth twenty each.”

            “Shut up.”

            Louise does.

            Finally, after possibly the most uncomfortable silence in the history of silences, Tina says, “There’s a hot dog stand a couple blocks from here. Let’s go.”

            Louise suddenly realizes she’s famished. Defending her sister’s honor is hard work. “My treat.”

            “You bet it is.”

 

#                        #                        #                        #                        #

 

            They walk to Tony’s Conies, order their dogs, and sit outside at one of the picnic table. Other semi-drunks apparently had the same idea, and Tina and Louise choose a table as far away from them as possible.

            Each orders a drink and a dog, and they split an order of cheese fries. They are exceptionally, painfully polite. Louise makes sure to not take the fries with lots of bacon, because she knows Tina likes those the best. Tina, meanwhile, grabs extra napkins, remembering how sloppy her sister is with chili dogs.

            Tina slurps her soda dry, and sighs. “I’m still mad, you know.”

            “I know.”

            “You were a real stone-cold bitch back there.”

            “I agree.”

            “But thanks. You know. For the punching.”

            Louise tries to smile. Chili dribbles are drying on her chin. “Come on, you’re my sister.”

            “So why do you keep snooping through my stuff?”

            “I wouldn’t if you’d just _tell_ me things.”

            “Really?” Tina stares at her. “You’re holding my privacy hostage? That’s blackmail.”

            Louise stabs her chili dog with her fork. “No, it’s—well, why didn’t you tell me?”

            “Guess.”

            “You think I’m going to turn my nose up at the best damn moneymaking scheme you could have picked, or do you think I’m ashamed of you? Because the answer to both is no. I’m impressed, T.”

            “Bingo.”

            Louise frowns.

            Tina throws down a half-eaten fry. It’s coated with bacon bits, so Louise knows Tina is serious. “I knew you would act like that. You want honesty? Fine.”

            Louise feels pinned down by Tina’s stare. “I love our father to death, but he’s absolute crap with money. I won’t just scrape by all my life, and the only way out of that trap is an education, which they can’t afford. There was practically nothing for my college, and there will be fuck-all when it’s your turn, little sister.”

            The bitterness makes Louise’s stomach ache. “What about all your scholarships and loans?”

            Tina’s laugh is raw and loud. “I’ll be paying those ‘till I’m 40! And they’re not enough. Unlike _some_ people, I didn’t bully the neighborhood kids into making crappy Art Crawl pictures, or run illegal casinos, so I had nothing to work with. I figured, topless review, it’s like working at Hooters, but breezier, and the tips have to be better. It’s my choice, after all, nothing embarrassing or shameful. But that’s the drawback to choose-your-choice feminism.” Tina pauses, and there’s a drawn look to her. “It’s not really a choice if you’re picking between two bad options.” She shrugs. “You wanted me to tell you stuff. There it is.”

            Louise feels like Tina slapped her after all. “Damn, I’m an asshole.”

            “Anything else you want to know about the business before I retire, because I sure as hell can’t go back now. If one guy recognizes me out of work…”

            Louise blinks rapidly. The onions must be really getting to her. She’s not tearing up because her nineteen-year-old sister is experienced and bitter enough to call it “the business.”

            “So you didn’t strip-strip?”

            It’s the right thing to say. Tina bursts out laughing. “God, you are so naïve. It’s just topless entertaining—no touching, definitely no poles or back rooms. Basically, I was a waitress, but I’m too young to serve beer. Oh, and by the way, I was there today to do makeup, not have my picture taken. Dummy.”

            “I knew that.”

            “Bull.”

            Louise sips her Sprite in the hope of calming her stomach. “So. What are you going to do now?”

            “I still have my trunk.” She grins at her sister’s blank expression. “Oh yeah, you don’t have your lock pick tools with you, do you? I should have known, you’d have cleaned out the fridge if you had. It looks like I still have a secret after all.”

            Louise wheedles, Tina teases, but eventually she caves. “I have _a friend_ ,” she says dramatically. Still nothing registers. Tina holds her fingers to her mouth as if she’s inhaling.

            “Ohhhhhh…what are we doing _here_? Let’s burn one down!”

            “ _Sh!_ ” Tina twists in her seat to see if anyone’s looking, but nobody seems interested in them. “Don’t smoke up your profits. That’s lesson one.”

            “Dang, Tina.”

            “You wanted openness, so here we are. You don’t have nearly enough money stashed away. Don’t be stupid like me, plan now. Find _a friend_. You’re still in school, you have a ready market, and if you’re caught, the worst you'll get is juvie.” She shakes her head. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

            “I can’t believe I never thought of it.” And she can’t. Louise buys, of course. The Pesto twins are good sources, because they have to smoke the exact same amount, and, being lightweights, can’t handle much, so they’re usually eager to pass the extra on to her.

            “ _A friend_. Someone powerful in town.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Wears a white suit--”

            “Got it.”

            “I mean Mr. Fishoeder.”

            “I know, T.”

            “So, here’s the price for my wisdom; keep your nose out of my business. Some things are _private_ , Louise. But…I won’t hide anything important again.”

            “Let’s toast to it!” Louise hoists her cup of soda. “I raise my glass to not being a nosy brat.”

            Tina shakes her empty cup, shrugs, and takes off her glasses, holding them high. “And to me for forgiving you for being a nosey brat. And, uh, maybe telling you more stuff.”

            Cup and eyeglasses tap together, and the sisters mean it. They’re a team. Belchers. From the womb to the tomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> First, thank you so much for reading this! I’ve been laid up for a week with a foot injury, which proved to be the perfect opportunity to dig out the brainworm I’ve had in my head for over a year. I hope it entertained you as much as it did me.
> 
> Second, yes, there are light references to Archer scattered about the story. Something-something danger zone!
> 
> Musical references, none of which I own or profit from in any way:  
> 1--“Sisters are Doin’ it for Themselves” was originally performed by Aretha Franklin and Annie Lennox, and there are many remakes out there. With total r-e-s-p-e-c-t to Franklin and Lennox, my favorite version was sung by Lucy Lawless on "Xena, Warrior Princess".  
> 2—They're playing “Your Body” by Christina Aguilera at the party.  
> 3—There are a lot of remixes of Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You,” and I didn’t have any particular one in mind. However, Tina’s belly-dance to the song was inspired by the Bollywood interpretation as performed by Bhangra Empire. Check ‘em out on YouTube!  
> 4—“Sissy that Walk” by RuPaul can also be found on YouTube, and Bianca Del Rio is my forever queen.
> 
> Again, thank you so much. You win all the internets.
> 
> Yours,  
> DangerFloof


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